


My Foolish Heart;

by hiswitcherr (teddybards)



Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Bathing/Washing, Blushing Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Cuddling & Snuggling, Drabble Collection, M/M, Morning Cuddles, Soft Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Soft Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-18
Updated: 2021-01-18
Packaged: 2021-03-16 01:01:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,262
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28822626
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/teddybards/pseuds/hiswitcherr
Summary: A collection of Geraskier drabbles/ficlets based on dialogue prompts.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Comments: 3
Kudos: 18





	1. Not Yet

“Jasia…” Geralt sleepily mumbled against his bard’s shoulder. “Mm, you’re not allowed to get up.”

Jaskier smiled at the nickname, blushing, and stopped his wiggling around as he woke. The younger man was now locked in a full-body witcher snuggle. Under his dearheart’s weight and tangled in his sturdy limbs, the bard didn’t want to get up now. He carded one hand lazily through Geralt’s hair and ran the other one up and down the monster hunter’s toned back and shoulders.

As they lay in their warm embrace, the sun started to rise and cast red-gold beams of light into the tiny room. The town they had crashed in for the night in search of contracts was too small to have an inn, though the alderman’s wife let the witcher and his bard spend the night in their recently-wed daughter’s old room.

That warm dawn light reached its fingers in further, and the two lovers on the bed snuggled closer. The bed was small, but the witcher and his songbird didn’t mind. A gentle purr started to rise in Geralt’s chest, and Jaskier melted at the sensation of the soothing rumbles against his body.

“Darling, I don’t want to get up. Not yet,” The bard kissed the silver-haired head tucked up against his collarbone.

“Not yet.” his witcher rumbled back.


	2. Close Your Eyes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jaskier has an adorable little surprise for his witcher.

"Close your eyes."

“Why?”

“Just close them.”

Geralt sighed and closed his amber eyes.

“Now, hold out your hands,” Jaskier added to his previous playful commands. He scoffed when the Witcher opened his eyes again, brows knitted together.

“What do you have?” The Witcher asked roughly. Jaskier pouted, Geralt was speaking to him like a dog who had gotten into something it shouldn’t have.

Jaskier and Geralt had split up earlier that day to run separate errands in the city of Novigrad, and had just re-convened at the Golden Sturgeon. The weather had been stormy for days, but the white wolf and his bard were enjoying a break with their well-earned coin. The Witcher had been especially enjoying a private corner in the cozy Sturgeon and a tankard of ale when his bard arrived. Both of Jaskier’s hands were behind his back and he was grinning like a fool.

Now, Jaskier was impatient and just wanted to give the thing to Geralt, if he’d cooperate. He whined.

“I’m trying to give you something, if I tell you then it’s no fun.”

The Witcher sighed again, closed his eyes, and abandoned his drink to hold both hands palms up to Jaskier. He felt something soft… wiggling gently, tiny prickles of un-retractable claws… Geralt opened his eyes to the sight of a tiny smoke-grey kitten, and he held onto her gently, properly.

“Mew!” the kitten greeted him.

Geralt’s face cracked into a soft expression Jaskier had seen many times before. He held the kitten closer as Jaskier sat across from him and took in the endearing sight. The Witcher loved cats, though most strays and village felines cowered and hissed at him in passing. Jaskier always felt sorry that they never came to Geralt’s calling, and the White Wolf always tried to hide the vulnerable, soft affection he held for the dainty balls of furry chaos.

“Jaskier,” Geralt began, voice low, eyes still focused on the tiny soot-ball licking and nipping his calloused hands. “Where’d you find this little one?”

“Oh, you didn’t see? Her mother and siblings live here too, in the tavern, one of the younger maids has been looking after them.”

Yes, Jaskier had first approached the pretty lass to arrange that he performs for the next couple of nights. When she showed the bard the basketful of kittens (and mother) behind the bar, his new mission became getting one of the adorable little things to Geralt.

“Anyways, I’m playing here for at least the next two or three nights… We could stay here, you could hang out with the kittens…?” Jaskier suggested as Geralt let the kitten down to run around clumsily around on the table between them. 

“Just two or three nights? Could stay more if I find the coin. Plenty of contracts posted around the city…What?” 

The bard burst out laughing at Geralt’s response. The Witcher’s face tinged pink.

“Why are you laughing at me?”

The kitten mewed loudly up at him as if she knew the answer. Jaskier shook his head and reached out to squeeze his blushing Witcher’s hand briefly.

“Because you’re so soft, Geralt,” the bard rose from the table to get himself a drink and something to eat. “Don’t worry, I won’t tell!” he called over his shoulder.

Geralt caught the kitten before she tumbled off the side of the table, and began thinking of a way he could thank Jaskier for this. All of his ideas involved a room, a bed, and making sure his bard felt thoroughly appreciated. After all, kittens and contracts weren’t the only things that made the Witcher want to stick around and enjoy himself here.


	3. Blood, Bath

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which stinky Witchers don't get kisses.

"All that blood looks really good on you; brings out your eyes."

Geralt grimaced. Jaskier was smiling at him but keeping his distance from the gore-dripping Witcher. 

That evening, Geralt had taken on a nest of necrophages in an old battlefield. He made it through relatively unscathed, but for the mess. Necrophages self-destruct in a gory explosion as a last resort attack, and there were so many around him that the Witcher couldn't avoid it. The dark liquid coated his armour, gloves, boots, face and hair.

Upon returning to the nearby town's small inn, he found his bard waiting in their pre-arranged room with a bath. Now, the Witcher was unfastening his armour piece by piece and leaving it in a pile. He'd clean it later. There was something more pressing on his mind - the bath. 

Ever since Geralt and Jaskier let their friendship grow into something more, they'd fallen into a few affectionate routines. One of these routines was about to play out.

When Geralt came back from messy hunts, his bard would bathe him. And then, kiss him. 

"No kisses for stinky witchers," Jaskier had repeated on many occasions. Geralt knew better now than to lean in close when covered in grime, unless to tease the younger man.

At last, Geralt sunk into the warm bathwater. He cast Igni casually to get it a little hotter and let out a sigh. He untied his hair and sunk below the surface for a moment to let the blood rinse into the water. When he emerged, wiping his face, Jaskier was kneeling at the side of the tub, smiling. He had a soapy washcloth in hand and started to scrub each of Geralt's limbs in turn.

"How was the contract, love? Other than..." Jaskier cringed. "Very messy."

"Hm, should be able to get more coin out of it." Geralt replied. "Way more of the bastards than I thought there would be. It wasn't a problem, though."

He fell silent as Jaskier moved behind him to massage and wash his back and shoulders, closing his eyes when the bard gently washed his hair.

When he finished scrubbing his Witcher, the bard spoke up. 

"Alright, you can get out, my dear."

Jaskier watched with adoration as Geralt got up from the bath and wrapped a towel around his waist. He wasted no time in approaching the bard and embracing him. Jaskier wrapped his arms around Geralt and sighed. They pulled apart just enough for the Witcher to press a loving kiss to his bard's lips at last. Some things are always worth the wait.


End file.
